The 'Heaven and Hell' Affair
by Avirra
Summary: The only thing worse than a partner with insomnia is a partner with insomnia that insists on sharing.  100% sound and dialogue, just so you know if that's not your cup of tea. #1 of the sound/dialogue series.


**The 'Heaven and Hell' Affair**

"Illya?

"Uhm?"

"Illya? Are you awake?"

_inarticulate grumble_

"I am now, Napoleon. Though being awake at... is it 3 am? Why are you waking me up at 3 am?"

"Sorry. Couldn't sleep."

"Ah - and if you cannot sleep, no-one can sleep? Is this that 'misery loves company' saying that I have heard of?"

_chuckle_

"Possibly. Sorry again. Just had things running through my head and I thought maybe if we talked..?"

"Your mind might settle and you could get some sleep? If getting some sleep myself is riding on this, start talking, tovarich."

"Thanks. Illya? Ever think about where we'll be going after this?"

"New York?"

"No, no. Not after this mission. After we.. you know... die."

"A good Communist is supposed to believe that we just fertilize the soil to help produce more food for other good Communists."

"You've never thought about Heaven or Hell?"

"I have thought about the concepts, yes."

"I have trouble envisioning them. Upstairs, halos and wings. Downstairs, horns and pitchforks. But that doesn't really have any meaning to me, you know? Sounds more like a bad costume party."

"If I had said that, I would be called sacriligeous."

"No really, Illya. How do you picture Hell?"

"Hell is a warm place filled with partners who have insomnia and try to talk philosophy at 3 am."

"Illya! I'm serious here."

_sigh_

"Oh alright... the first thing you would notice about Hell is the smell. Decay. Unwashed bodies. Dust. Stagnant water. Nothing around that is not in ruins. Nothing of beauty. Nothing... soft. Any place you try to sit, any spot you try to lie, it is hard and there are sharp rocks or pieces of broken glass that will not allow true rest. Thirst. Hunger. You can get a drink of warm, scummy water, but never enough to stop the thirst. You can find scraps, but they have been trod on and taste of mud. And there is never, ever enough of them to make the ache in your stomach stop. You must be wary at all times, because there are hounds. Near skeletal, drooling beasts as desperate as you are. They fight you for every scrap and you know that if you let down your guard, they will attack and try to chew what little flesh you have from your bones. The worst part is that in Hell, you would know. You would know that you could not die to escape it. That however bad today is, tomorrow will be just as bad or worse. That you will never know better than you have right at that moment."

"Damn... err, pardon the unintentional pun. Illya? That's not something you're making up, is it? You've lived that?"

"Well, no. At least, not exactly. I have never thought that I could not die. And I have always managed to hang onto the hope that tomorrow may manage to be better than today. That is why I am with U.N.C.L.E., da? It is not enough to simply hope for tomorrow to be better. A man must try to make it so."

"And Heaven?"

"Heaven. The smells there would be mixed. Cooking from a good Babyshka's kitchen. Fresh breads from a bakery. The sweetness of flowers and ripened fruits. Remember that glacial spring we once came across? All the water would be that way. Cold and pure tasting. Food would be abundant and everything there would either be fresh from an oven or freshly picked from a garden. Of course, everywhere you looked there would be something pleasing to the eye. Anywhere you sat would be comfortable. Any animals would be like cats - fat, sleek and seeking you out only for a scratch behind their ears. And you would be there."

"Me? Much as I like your description of the place, I don't know that they'd let me in with the life I've led."

"Why not? You do such as you can to help those that cannot help themselves. Protect the innocents from threats that they do not even know the existance of. Yes, you have killed, but I do not see how any just God could blame you for that. Out of the first four humans he created, 25% of them killed. To me, that speaks of a flaw in the basic design of man."

"Treading on the sacriligeous territory again there, chum. Can't say that I find a flaw with that reasoning though."

"If there is a supreme being, if he did not want us asking questions, he should not have given us a nature that wants answers. Have you ever been around an innocent child, tovarich? Endless questions. Why is grass green? Skies blue? Are clouds as soft as they look? From that, I would say we are born to question everything."

"Maybe so. Still not sure they'd let me in."

"They would have to."

"Have to?"

"Da. You asked how I would envision Heaven. If it is a place that would not allow in the only friend I have ever known, I do not think it would be worthy of the name."

"I'm flattered. I wouldn't want to be a member of the club without you either."

_yawn_

"I heard that, Napoleon. Does that mean that you might be able to sleep now?"

"Yes... I think so. Thank you, tovarich. Sleep well. I owe you."

"Excellent. You can start in the morning by buying breakfast."


End file.
